One of my very best friends and I occasionally get into a discussion about the kind of horror movies we like. She favors the slasher flick over the supernatural. In her opinion, a guy with a knife (or a machete, or chainsaw, or...you get the picture) is a lot scarier than any ghost going bump in the night. "That's reality," she would say. "That could actually happen."

I, on the other hand, have always been fascinated by the other-worldly. And since I was raised in the church, I am pretty much hardwired to have a healthy respect of the supernatural. If a guy comes at me with a knife, it's either him or me, loser buys the farm. That's scary, but it's not, you know...scary. On the other hand, when the walls start bleeding, and objects begin to move by themselves, and you suddenly feel a soft, feather-light touch on the back of your neck, when you're alone, that's what gives me the heebie-jeebies! I mean, what the crap do you do about that? What can you do? Most of us don't have a priest on speed dial.

That's just preference. But don't get it twisted. I can watch any number of slasher flicks with great pleasure. I love Halloween, Friday the 13th, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and a bunch more. I watch them every year during the Howling Season (coming soon, my friends). And my friend is quite happy to watch a well-done supernatural horror movie. We just have different ideas of what truly creeps us out.

That's only one level, though. The kind of horror is only one part of the fear equation. After all, I've seen supernatural horror movies that made me laugh my ass off, while few movies are as terrifying as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or, say, Hostel. There has to be something beyond the well-known tropes of horror that compels you to read or watch (and me to write) horror, of whatever stripe you're into. What is that?

On my homepage, I give the definition of the word 'harrow': "To disturb keenly or painfully...To cause intense fear or dread." As in any genre, you manipulate the readers' emotions by holding a mirror to their faces, and showing them the things they already know, deep down in their hearts. In horror, that mirror shows a dark reflection of mankind's deepest fears, the old, atavistic terrors that haunt us in the hours before dawn, and the superstitions and dreads that remind us how small and vulnerable we are. Think about how you would feel if you turned and saw a message written in blood on the wall that hadn't been there before. How would you feel walking alone on a sidewalk at night, and hearing a set of echoing footsteps behind you, stealthily keeping pace. The uncertainty, turning to fear, becoming outright terror, maybe mixed with awe, or a sense of hopelessness. And what kind of terror? Terror of losing one's life, one's sanity, or even one's soul. Terror of losing one's family. How might those things manifest themselves? How do they change the atmosphere? And how do they affect thoughts, words, and actions?

These are some of the things I like to consider when I'm writing. Because the silent, hulking giant holding the knife, and the creaking door on a moonless, windless night, are only part of the story. You've got to get the reader on that sidewalk or in that dark room, feeling the tingle as it works its way up the spine. You do that by getting the reader inside the character's head. By showing what the character notices through his senses--feeling the bite of a cold wind, or the muffled thump of a footfall in another room--or her reaction to what she is sensing; the character swallows nervously, sweats with fear as she imagines the face of the man behind her, imagines his hand falling on her shoulder. ​Use descriptive sensual imagery, internal thoughts and perceptions, and physical responses to create an atmosphere of dread in your story. With those tools, you're sure to have your readers sleeping with the lights on!

Well, it's been a year since THE RAGGEDY MAN was published by Bloodshot Books (the actual date of publication was June 4th, if you want to be exact. I don't, but, hey, you do you). A lot has happened since then, not the least of which, was the passing of my wife, a little over a month ago. The last two years of her life were particularly difficult, and that, as you can imagine, has made the time since the book was published, bittersweet. Nevertheless, my dreams of becoming a published author were realized. I became wealthy overnight, and famous beyond all my wildest dreams. And...

And only the first thing happened. Sorry. After one year on the market, my first lesson to the would be author is this: if you're in this for the fame and fortune, I beg you, get out. Do something - do anything - else. This ain't that kinda party, brah. You do this because you love it. You do this because, to not do it is to deny your very nature, your reason for being on this planet. And if you're not doing what you're meant to do, well, then, what's the freaking point?

Sure, you could be one of the fortunate few: the next King, the next Patterson, the next Rowling; one book sold, and suddenly you're a household name, your books printed in the thousands - the millions - in almost every major language known to man. But for most of us writing remains a labor of love (sometimes unrequited), even with several books under our belt. Some of us never get more than one or two books published. And evern for those who achieve more, writing remains a passion that at most, provides supplemental income to our 9-5 job. So, if you put down your law book, or medical notes to pick up a pen in order to obtain riches, you should know now that you chose poorly.

Okay. If you haven't thrown down your pen, your pencil, or (oh, I hope not) your laptop, and gone back to your law books or medical notes, then I guess you won't be dissuaded. You're in it for the long haul - more fool, you. And for you, here is how it's been for me, and likely, how it will be for you:

In the past year, I haven't gotten rich or famous. Agents and publishers have not come crawling out of the woodwork to offer me multi-book deals, and not a single supermodel has thrown herself at my feet (though there is a slight possibility that one or two have filed a restraining order, a slight misunderstanding that will all be worked out to everyone's satisfaction, I am sure). But what I have had is one co-worker whose son has vowed to buy anything I write. I've had the son of an editor praise my writing, and wonder when my next book will come out. Another person who said that she couldn't stop turning pages. I've had several people voice their pleasure - and displeasure - at the fate of a main character, and one pal, who has pretty much demanded that another character be given a book of his own. (His wife has threatened to send the ASPCA to my house for one scene with some animals.) To many of you, that will sound like small potatoes, and you'll wonder what the hell the point of it all was. The thing is, that actually IS the point, and if you can't see that, then I urge you to reconsider your law or medical degree.

See, that's the real coin of the realm for me, and, I suspect, many other writers. I remember what it was like reading Stephen King's Carrie, for the first time. Robert McGammon's Swan Song, William Peter Blatty's The Exorcist. That delicious thrill of fear that demands you stop reading, even as it forces you to turn the page to find out what happens next. The idea that something I have written could excite that in someone reading my work - hell, of creating that for myself - is like an addict anticipating that next hit. And so I write.

Okay, so, I'm running long on this one. But I'm not done yet. I've got a few more thoughts on the things I've learned in the last year. I'd love to hear from others who have done so, or wish to, who would like to share their experiences.

The other day, I got into a discussion with a couple of co-workers that somehow got onto reading, and then, the future of printed books. "Physical books," one person said, "are going away. You'll only be able to read them electronically." She said it as a thing already done, and only the timing in question. Another woman in the conversation nodded agreement, her grave features suggesting that anything might happen to civilization after all the books have gone.

It's an old prediction going back to the roll out of e-readers, and it's a compelling one, I suppose. E-readers can hold an entire library of books stored on the device itself, or in"the cloud." They are convenient, and easy to use, and have some advantages that physical books don't. E-books don't lose their bindings, or have pages to rip, or fade with time. And, more importantly, if you're like me, and like to have a variety of books on long trips, vacations, or just in case your mood changes or you finish one before you get home, the number of choices in the palm of your hand are limited only to the number of books stored in your "library. Most readers even have a backlight effect so you can read at night in the dark."

With all that going for them, it's easy to see why some people feel there's no longer any need for hardcover or paperback books. But disappear? Nah...I don't think so. Having a new way to do something does not always mean "sundowning" the old way. Television didn't replace movies, after all, and even vinyl records are making a comeback. There's just something about the feel of a book in your hands, the weight of it, even the smell of it, that no e-reader or book can replace. I love sitting in my workspace and being able to look over at bookcases overflowing with well-read volumes. Just seeing the title on the spine of some of these often brings back the pleasure of the first time I read them. Call it romanticism if you will, (or nostalgia, I guess, if you're one of those who've moved on from physical books) but there is an intimacy with physical books that you just can't get with e-readers.

Now, don't get it twisted. I am no Luddite, even when it comes to my reading preference. I have a Kindle app, and I like it just fine, thank you very much. I've got a whole list of books stored in it, some of which I've read, and some of which I am very much looking forward to reading. But...books, though.

Still, I do acknowledge that there is a shift in the publishing paradigm. Physical books will never go away, IMHO, but if you're a writer, you'd better pay attention to that shift. With many publishers, especially magazines, more interested in publishing electronically than with getting into brick-and-mortar stores, or, at least equally, you would do well to familiarize yourself with the legal definition, industry standard rates for royalties, and even the different forms of contractual language involved with electronic rights (they may not be specifically called "electronic rights;" The contract could just refer to "any and all media and formats," or some such), and acceptable contract terms for same, or you may end up wishing you'd paid more attention to the fine print.

Well, then. I've made no secret of the fact that I've been in the weeds this past year. As the old nugget goes, and as I am sure many of you can attest: ​"Life is what happens while you're busy making plans." (a less cynical version of another old nugget which posits that feces doth occur-and usually at the worst possible moment) No need to go into detail: that's not the point of this piece. The point is that feces is always going to occur; but that doesn't mean that the things that matter should just be allowed to wither away like a seed in too-shallow ground, burning away in the sun.

For me (and hopefully, if you're reading this, for you) one of those things is writing. In order to continue to write, I have had to change my approach to it. Before, I always felt like I had to write on my laptop; writing longhand, it seemed like I couldn't keep up with my thoughts. But then, I found myself unable to get to my computer. And when I could get to my computer, I often found myself responding to social media messages and the like, more than I was working. So I went old school. I dug out an old leather organizer with a 3-ring binder section for notebook paper, and an area that allowed a college-ruled note pad. . I got a pack of #2 pencils, sharpened to a needle point. And I got to work.

And guess what? It worked!

I have been making steady progress on re-writes of my second novel, plus a novella, that I've been working on in fits and starts for quite a while. Sometimes, I do find myself frustrated that I can't seem to write as quickly as I think. But there are benefits. The first, and most obvious being that I am not bound by time or location. As long as I've got my writing pad and a pencil or pen, I can write. I can write during TV commercials, during breaks at work, or in hospital rooms, while I'm sitting around, not really doing much of anything. Another benefit, is the lack of many of the dangerous time-sucks clamoring for attention on electronic devices, like Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, etc. Put Pandora on on my Firestick, break out my writing pad, and I am absolutely golden.

All of which is to say that if you find you are spending more of your writing time screwing around than producing content-or worse, not writing at all, because feces keeps occurring during writing time, or even because you just need to switch things up, get yourself out of a rut, you may need to consider taking another approach. Yeah...some people may be offended that you haven't responded to their FB posts of that cute-AF cat doing that thing that makes you go "Awwwwww...," but you may just find your writing life has become much more fulfilling.

Now, go on. Get outta here and get to work. Those words ain't gonna write themselves.

Well...2017 has certainly been something. I got a novel published. That's pretty cool. A bunch of other things have happened that are not quite so cool. But it's all part of the cycle of life. As Remo Williams would say: That's the biz, sweetheart.

But it's 2018, now. And I'm trying to build off the successes that I have fought for, and brush off the dust of my failures, in order to move ahead and achieve more success. As I look back on my literary journey in 2017, I have come up with 4 New Year's Resolutions for 2018. Here they are.

I resolve to:

1. Show and not tell. My most recent post is all about the tendency, especially of new writers, to give a list of events in a story, rather than show, through a description of characters' thoughts, actions, reactions, etc. I'm going to stop telling you what "Bob" felt, and show you by the way he licks his lips and averts his eyes when he's lying, or the way his left hand twitches when he's on the verge of violence, or he grins sheepishly when confronted with the empty bag of Fritos lying half out of the overflowing garbage can.

2. Give passive voice a pass. Nothing washes out your prose more than passive voice. It's Show, not tell's ugly little sister. Never "The car was stolen by Bob," when you can "Bob stole the car." Unless you're a journalist, that's just plain wrong.

3. Phase adverbs out of my writing. Gently. Look, if you've been writing for any length of time, you know that adverbs are to writing as food after midnight is to gremlins. They're just going to wreck your stuff. That being said, there are exceptions to every rule, particularly the one that says never to use adverbs. My advice? As with everything else in life: "All things in moderation."

4. Write more. The bottom line of this resolution is ass in seat. No matter how good a writer you are, if you aren't putting in work, you might as well invest your time in a more profitable hobby. Like day trading. Life gets in the way, sometimes. Happens to me. It's going to happen to you. The only thing you can do is try to make use of the moments you have. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. TV. Parties. Sleep. Do what you gotta do, man.

So, a couple months ago, my writing group critique mates were kind enough to read a portion of my second WIP, tentatively titled THE COMING DARKNESS. As always, they were insightful, thorough, and kind, even when telling me something wasn't working for them. One of those things involved a couple of spots in the narration where one of the main characters was feeling something, or performing an action, where I described said thought or deed, rather than showing.

The distinction may be challenging for the new writer to understand (and even published writers have to keep a wary eye out for it). But if you want writing that gets inside the reader and keeps them turning pages long after bedtime, it's one you'd better learn. And what is the difference?

Consider the following sentence: He grew furious.

I gave you a fact. Something happened, and a character grew furious. I told. Which is fine, and sometimes, it's necessary. But now, consider this passage: John glared at his cowering brother, teeth clenched, his expression a thunderhead of rage. Without moving a muscle, he seemed at once to become larger and more compact, his muscular frame poised on the verge of unleashing violence.

Okay, not great, maybe. But I hope this illustrates the difference between telling someone how a character feels and showing, through the character's thoughts and actions. One is factual and dull. The other is visceral and evocative, forming a connection between the reader and the character, even if the character isn't a likable one. It gets the reader in the moment, allowing him or her not only to visualize, but to feel the action as it takes place. I didn't just tell you he was furious, I made you get right in there and see it!

Now try this one: He was an ugly man.

Versus: The girl behind the counter glanced up at him and recoiled slightly, her smile nearly collapsing into the grimace of distaste he could see trying to replace it; it was a look he'd gotten nearly every day his entire life, and it no longer bothered him. Well, not so much. Not most days.

Again, the first example is mere exposition. It states a detail about a character. But the second example paints a much more vivid picture by showing the reaction of others to the character, as well as giving some insight into the character's mindset regarding his own ugliness. It is a thing he is aware of, and to a certain degree, accepts.

Sometimes, the difference between telling and showing is as simple as choosing a stronger verb or verb phrase: He sat, impatiently vs. He threw himself into the chair and waited, one knee bouncing up and down like a jackhammer. Or She walked in the door, vs She glided into the room, She stormed in, She slunk in. (See how changing the verb gives you a different image of her walking in? Hence, the power of showing!)

Anyway, you get the picture.

Again, exposition can be a fine and useful, even necessary thing. But when you combine images, strong verbs, good dialogue, and specific visual details of characters acting, reacting, or interacting, you help the reader move past the intellect to that place where dreams are real and anything can happen. It's called the willing suspension of disbelief, and it is your job, as the writer, to lay straight the path there. So, before you consider your masterpiece well and truly done, do yourself a favor and go back through it one more time. Look for some areas where you can show us the action rather than telling. I promise you, any potential publisher will be sensitive to it. Because they know that if they can't "see" it, neither will the readers.

So I'm taking a break from working on book #2 to (try to) work on a short story for the Fall Fiction Contest, to be judged by Brian Evenson. It's a max of 7000 words, and the winning story earns a $2000 prize. Some writers would give a limb to make that off their writing in a given year.

I heard about the contest late (last Tuesday; it ends 11/15), and I've been taking care of the wife after a fall resulting in injury, so who knows whether I'll be able to pull off a story I think is good enough to submit. But as the Lottery motto tells us: You can't win if you don't play. Payout aside, this contest also serves another purpose for me. I don't tend to suffer from writer's block. But I sometimes get burnt out on a subject. And when that happens, it's good to step away and focus on something else for a while, then come back with a fresh perspective. Not saying that's happened with my current WIP (work in progress, for the uninitiated) - I've recently come up with a few things I think are going to make the story much stronger, and I'm excited to get those things done. But I don't mind the break.

Also, if you're between stories, and you're looking for something new to write, it's not a bad idea to look for contests such as this, or even just search magazine websites for open calls. They are often looking for specific types of stories, which may challenge you in a way you hadn't considered before. Never written a steampunk vampire western before, and magazine ABC wants you to send in your best? Well, think about taking on the challenge. Even if you don't like the result, or if the magazine doesn't, you will have broadened your horizon a bit, and possibly planted the seed of a future story somewhere in your subconscious.

Well, that's all I've got time for today. The 15th is fast approaching, and I've got write a freaking masterpiece of a story before then. Wish me luck!

CiaI'm still working on the second draft of my second, still-unnamed novel. (I have a working title, but I haven't decided if I like it enough to introduce to family, yet. It's a writer thing--thank you for your patience) I had hoped to be done with it by now, so that I can get it sent out to at least one agent and one publisher before everyone in the publishing community broke for the holidays. Looks like that's not going to happen. Why? Partly...just life. It slows you down, like rush hour traffic, you know? But mostly, I hit a bump.

A "bump" to me is when you're chugging along making minor changes--switching articles, adding and subtracting pesky commas, weighing options to the universally-shunned adverbs that spring up like weeds in a garden--and then, suddenly...a bump, the thing in the writing itself that stops your progress cold, or at least redirects it. Maybe you missed some plot point. Maybe what should have been a minor character steps forward and does something major, requiring backstory or at least more page time. Or maybe you've got an entire section that is not only not important to the plot, but possibly the work of your evil twin who might have been hopped up on medication and suffering a psychotic break when he wrote it. If it's the latter, your work is easy: hack it out and either toss it or save it for a future story. If it's one of the others, well, you've got some major rewriting to do.

Now, this isn't a bad thing. Not at all. Finding these bumps and fixing them are, after all, what rewriting is about, and can only make your work stronger. But of course this is going to add more time and effort, ranging from mildly inconvenient to soul-shatteringly disheartening depending on the severity of the problem. In my case, I realized that I had written nearly half the book talking about this darkness inside the main character, hinting at this past event that had caused it, without devoting a single page to it. I needed, I realized, to have that story much sooner, and it wasn't going to be a matter of simply cutting those scenes from later in the book and pasting them earlier. It's going to be a major rewrite, after which, I will go through the rest of the book, and then re-read the whole thing again, seeing if the new stuff works well enough with the rest.

But it's all good, folks. I wanted to have more of the work done, by now, sure. But I know that I'm making the story better. My goal as a writer is to write something that hooks the reader, drags them into the story, and then makes them forget that they are reading. It only takes "Wait, what?" moment to snatch the reader out of the story. Too many of those, and whether the reader bothers to finish your story or not, the likelihood of them picking up your next book are slim to none.

So do the work. Rewriting and editing can be a drag, but they are essential to making your book the best it can possibly be. Hire a professional editor to go through it if you need to (and if you're self-publishing, you should do that anyway; possibly, even if you are going through a traditional publisher!), and work with them to make your book better. (Just one caveat: take what time you need to make the work the best you can make it, but know when you're done. Perfection is impossible, and at some point, you're going to have to get the book out there, or you'll never have a career. As the King said to the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland: "Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop.")

Put in work, my people. Put in work, and you'll produce something that people will remember and talk about. And maybe recommend. You want that, don't you?

This past weekend, I attended Dragon Con, one of the southeast's biggest and best science fiction, fantasy, comic, and pop culture conventions, as I have for the last several years. And as in past conventions, I went to several panels on the "writers' track," which usually featured several well-known authors in the field appropriate to the topic of conversation.

One of the panels had to do with horror (surprise, surprise, right?), and the first thing the moderator asked the authors to do was to define horror as each saw it. One of the speakers (I don't remember which) gave an answer that surprised me, saying he didn't think of horror as a genre at all, but as a mood. The most obvious cases tend to have a supernatural element to it, but that's not always a guarantee. Without that mood - that feeling of dread and, well, horror, what you have left is an action-adventure story, or a romance, a psychological thriller, paranormal tale, or a sci-fi story, etc. And it doesn't matter a rat's hairy sack how many monsters, witches, or zombies you throw into the mix.

That makes perfect sense to me. Think about it: Twilight and Salem's Lot both feature vampires. Nobody thinks of the former as horror, while the latter is considered by many to be one of the best horror novels ever written. Another author made the point with this comparison: "Alien is a horror movie; Aliens is an action flick." I hadn't really made that connection myself. Guess I'm gonna have to go back and watch 'em both and see if I agree. (Heh. I love "research.")

Anyway, the point is this (or, at least my point is): Anything can be horror if you do it right. Horror isn't just a space on a shelf, it's a way of looking at the world, and, as such, can't be "boxed" with a standard definition. As U.S. Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart famously said of hardcore pornography: "I know it when I see it." And so will the reader.

​Whether you prefer the subtle horror of a Shirley Jackson, the monumental works of Lovecraft, the more terrifying work of William Peter Blatty, or the balls-to-the-wall action of Brian Keene or Jack Ketchum, keep your eye on the prize when telling your story. Remember the things that frightened you as a child, the things that frighten you still, and bleed all that dread out into your story. If it frightens you, and you can manage to communicate that through your story, you will have written something effective, something stirring, and maybe, just maybe, something that will keep your readers up at night with the lights on! So, come on, ya sickos...let's go scare some people!

It happens each year around this time. The longest day has passed, and each successive one brings darkness a little earlier, with dusk tinting the sky a deeper red before nightfall. It's only August, I know, but these little changes tell me that Fall is right around the corner, and something in me comes alive. Because Fall is MY time.

Where some people get a pep in their step when Spring rolls around, it's the fall season that gets me jazzed. I begin looking forward to the leaves changing their colors, though it won't happen until well into September, if not October. I start thinking about what horror movies I might be watching, and when I might want to watch them. I start rooting around in my CD collection for things like "Closed on Account of Rabies: Tales of Edgar Allen Poe" to play in my car (when it's time, of course. Several weeks from now, closer to October. At least mid-September, certainly no earlier than September 1st. Except...maybe...just once or twice, because, really, how much talk radio can a guy stand?). And although it's much too soon to be thinking about Halloween decorations (at least it is according to my wife, whose eye-rolls over the matter have grown increasingly extravagant over the years), I will occasionally find myself looking at a wall or a shelf and thinking: Yeah...maybe the skeleton there this year.

Most importantly, my creative impulses go into overtime, and I simply can't wait to get to writing or drawing. It's as if a dam has given way somewhere in my mind, and I'm flooded with ideas. I've long since given up searching for a first cause, or assigning either nature or nurture to it. It simply is. A part of who I am. Always has been. Always will be, world without end.

I know there are others like me out there. I've seen you. And you've seen me. We've grinned at each other over the (for now) modest selection of plastic pumpkins that have suddenly appeared in stores, filling in the spaces previously occupied by summer fun and back-to-school displays. Like me, you nod in appreciation of the Halloween-themed memes that have suddenly begun popping up online like mushrooms in a dark, haunted forest. And like me, you've begun thinking about where the boxes are. The ones with the decorations in them. You don't need them just yet, you just want to know where they are. Who knows, maybe you'll go through them, see if there's anything needs replacing. Like candles. You'll always need more candles. And batteries, of course. Fluid for the fog machine. And maybe it's time to go ahead and get that metal haunted house candle holder, since you're getting candles anyway...

Author

Chris Collins is a reader and writer of horror. Anything that sends a shiver crawling up your spine has a home in Harrowscape. He has recently made a deal for his first novel, "The Raggedy Man," due out on shelves in 2017